Musings of the Sleep Deprived
by BatmansLady1369
Summary: UPDATED - commish g. and bats fic. not done often, so i decided to give it a swing. don't hate me - it's 3 am!!
1. What's going on?

A/N: Ok, I'm not really sure why I'm writing this except that I'm really bored.and Batman's a sexy beast but, you know. Uh, for those who clicked on this and happen to be stupid, this is not for the kiddies, and is a slash fic - that means M/M yummyness. However if this is not your cup of tea, don't read it just to flame me, cuz that's just not cool. Well, uh, don't forget to send you questions, suggestions, comments, or death threats (my grammar is horrible)! I'm always interested in what the readers have to say (if there are any, Haha) Ok, on with the fic.. (  
  
Chapter 1 - Changes  
  
I stood at the edge of the roof on the GCPD headquarters building. The city was still bustling at 2 a.m. and I was simply enjoying the night, or morning I suppose, before I went back to my empty house, so I could get some sleep and start another day of defending a hopeless city. Gotham City. A sigh escaped me and I instinctively pushed my hands deeper into my coat pockets. As much as I love this place, no matter how many battles I win as part of the police force, the war will go on and on, even after I'm gone. It's very depressing, and I often wonder if I'm really doing any good for this city in the long run. But then, every time I start to think like that, I only need to think of him. The only other man that really understands my fool's errand is the Batman. He knows what it is to dedicate your life to something that is, in the end, never truly going to get better. I was about to sigh again when suddenly I heard the bustling of a cape behind me. Speak of the devil..  
  
"Evening," I said over the wind. I could almost hear him smirk.  
  
"Jim," he acknowledged.  
  
It was rare that he didn't startle me. I swear one day he'll give me a heart attack. God, I'm getting old..I wonder how old he is. I'll probably never know. I've never really had a conversation with him. To do so would probably involve nailing the man's feet to the ground. Heh, knowing him, he'd leave before I got the hammer out. Just then he walked up next to me, and so I turned to face him. Curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to initiate a "convesation".  
  
"How did you know I'd be here?" I asked.  
  
"I didn't," he responded simply.  
  
Well, that went splendidly. What did I expect? Though, something seemed to be different about him that night. Unfortunately, I was never that great at reading emotions, so I couldn't quite put my finger on it. When he didn't say anything else (not that I expected him to) I turned back to the ledge. We had been standing there for almost a minute when I heard him sigh and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him staring at me. Yes, I decided, there was definitely something going on that night. And, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said he was out on the roof of GCPD headquarters looking for someone to talk to. But of course my better judgment went against that. Still, it was worth a try.  
  
"What is it?" I asked, concerned. I was a little more than surprised when he said something back instead of just giving me a "Butt out, Jim," look.  
  
"I.don't worry about it Jim," he said. It was unusual to hear such an uncontrolled tone in his voice. Like that night, he was human. Just some man in a bat-suit, and as I stared back out over the city, I actually felt a bit afraid for him, swinging from building to building. Only a man.  
  
Then he made a move to jump off the ledge and swoop off into the night like he always does. But for some reason, just that night, just once, I put out my hand to stop him, resting it gently on his well-muscled shoulder. I gulped, and figured if not now, when? You only live once, and this was my friend. I should try to help him. So I cleared my throat and squeezed his shoulder a bit, though it was more of a nervous tick than a comforting gesture.  
  
"You didn't come here, unsure of me being here or not, for no reason. It's not like you," I prodded, "there's something wrong."  
  
I held my breath for a moment, and when he didn't move, I felt emboldened. I pulled slightly with the hand on him, turning him around to face me. I was ready to try again, but before I had a chance to continue, I felt him wrap his powerful armor-clad arms around me, crushing me into his hard chest - my nose pressed against the bat-symbol. I could hear his heart beating and for the life of me I was so confused I couldn't have told you what my name was then. It was then I knew this was going to be a LONG night.  
  
Ok, really - how was that for a first chapter?? You'll know what Bats is acting so weird in Chapter 2, but I'd appreciate any input you have!! Thanks for reading, and I promise the next chap will be up soon. 


	2. long night

A/N: Okay, it's chapter 2!! I've only had one review *sniffle* but I decided to write some more anyways. Um, ok, I hope people start reading my story and what not. Ok, I'm staring now, really. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
So there I was, on a rooftop in Gotham, at 2 a.m., in the arms of a dark and excessively disturbing (though undeniably sexy - just don't tell anyone I said so.) man in a bat-suit. I was at a loss for words - so I did the only thing I could think of. I hugged him back. I was nervous as hell, and there was so much strangeness going on that morning, I was sure I was dreaming. As I began, I was slow and cautious with my movements, just in case he changed his mind. And, I didn't want to scare him. Finally, my arms were around him, rumpling the heavy black cape over his broad back. Despite the thick armor he had on, I could feel his warmth and the slow rise and fall of his muscular chest with each carefully controlled breath. On the other hand, I was actually fidgeting and just waiting for someone like Bullock to walk up and see us. What if he told the other officers? What if it hit the news? Ah, but in all of my selfish worrying over being caught, I had actually forgotten what was going on, and I raised my eyes up to see one of the strongest men I've ever known trembling and looking lost - almost childlike - even if he was a good inch or two taller than me.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jim.. I shouldn't have come," he murmured into my hair in his deep baritone.  
  
"Don't be sorry. I just want to know what the hell is going on!" I said in a muffled cry into the bat symbol on his chest.  
  
"I..I'm not..good with words. You know that..but. But tonight..tonight, about 25 years ago, something..happened. Something terrible that changed my life. The event that made me what I am, and inspired me to become Batman. I..had wanted to talk, but..I didn't..I'm sorry I put this weight on your chest as well, I hadn't meant to," he said in a hoarse whisper.  
  
Once I got over the shock of him revealing something so personal ( and saying almost a complete paragraph ), I decided it was time to make my friend feel better. It's a difficult thing to do, seeing how depressed the man always is, but I figured I would give it my best shot. I took in a deep, what was supposed to be calming breath. It just made me more nervous. At this point he had moved away from me and looked as if he were once again trying to exit. The sun was beginning to rise - how long had we been up there? But that's not important right now.  
  
I walked up to him again, feeling a bit like a pestering child. But instead of stopping him, I just looked up at his face. He looked a bit perplexed, and I was actually wondering what I was doing at the time as well. Impulsively, my hands took on a will of their own as they went around the back of his neck and, God forgive me, I kissed him. Batman. On the lips. I must have had a death wish - but I couldn't take it back. And Jesus he tasted good. My eyes slid shut as I felt his grip around my back tighten and one gloved hand went up into my hair. Oh. God. I felt his solid body pressing against me, my fingers ran across his strong jaw line, and I was savoring the hard thrust of his tongue - but his lips were soft, giving easily under my assault on his hot mouth. I didn't know how much longer I could stand and I had stopped breathing. Just as I thought I would pass out or start coming, he stopped. When I pulled away to face him, I found myself turning back towards the signal a few feet behind us, too embarrassed to look him in the eye (even though I couldn't actually see his eyes, it was still unnerving.) When I turned back, naturally, he was gone, and I was alone again, with a raging hard-on and still lacking in the knowledge of what the hell just went through his head this morning. Damn.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Okay, was this better formatted? And what about the actual story?? I know it's not that great, but any suggestions people have would be really appreciated. Thanks! 


	3. more excitement! yay?

I'm back with more!! I really hope this is a good chapter cuz I went through some major writer's block while putting this together, so let me know!!  
  
It had been two weeks since our kiss on the rooftop when I had to light the Bat-signal. To say I was nervous about seeing him again was nearly the understatement of the century. Bullock and Montoya were on the roof with me, and it was raining. I was soaking wet, and believe me, I was not in a good mood. I was getting ready to go over everything that had gone wrong that night when I heard Montoya gasp from behind me.  
  
"Evening," I said, a feeling of déjà vu washing over me as the smirk I knew he was sporting sent shivers down my spine.  
  
"Jim," he acknowledged. This was getting creepy.  
  
I turned to him and pulled out a file, hoping it didn't get too drenched to be useful.  
  
"As I'm sure you're aware, Joker escaped yesterday. He's got twelve hostages in the elementary school on 23rd street and rumors are going around about Harley holding at least a dozen students and teachers at the high school around the corner. Both are said to have bombs set up in several hallways of the buildings and a good number of hit men patrolling the area. We have both schools surrounded right now, but I wanted you to go in first. Figured it would be cleaner that way."  
  
He nodded gravely, took the file under his cape, and made his way toward the edge of the building.  
  
"Careful, old friend," I heard myself say.  
  
He stopped and looked at me, "I always am, Jim," was his gravelly reply.  
  
As I watched him disappear over the side of the GCPD headquarters building, I found myself shaking. My fingers were numb, and I moved only out of habit down the stairwell and out to my car. Truth be told, for the first time in years, I was afraid for him.  
  
Halfway to the high school, I heard that the bombs had been disabled, Harley was in custody, and the hostages were all safe. I turned right at the next light and started my way over to the elementary school. Ten minutes later I was standing out in the rain again, among thirty odd dedicated men and women ready to give their lives for the hostages inside that building. And I had sent in a vigilante who was rumored to be insane and seemed to have been particularly unstable as of late. I needed a cigarette.  
  
I was struggling with my lighter when suddenly a huge explosion from the school grabbed my attention. The cigarette fell from my mouth, forgotten and useless anyways because of how soggy it was, and likewise my lighter was dropped numbly to the ground and I raised a shaky hand. I signaled my men to get ready, and waited. I was holding my breath, almost expecting Joker to come out with a dead Batman over his shoulder and find twelve mutilated kids inside.  
  
We must have stood there for twenty minutes. I was over my initial shock and had gone through four cigarettes, fighting the urge to pass out. The one I was on was approaching the filter. That's when the doors burst open - the cops all cocked and readied their guns..and all the children came running out. A wave of relief swept through the officers and we went up to get the kids towels and some hot cocoa, courtesy of some older friends of a senior officer. After all the children were taken care of, a small group of my men followed me into the building to make sure there weren't any stragglers and to see if Batman had left us anything.  
  
It was dark and musty, and one of the bombs had in fact gone off in the cafeteria. The smell of the smoke was almost unbearable and it was extremely difficult to see much of anything in the already dark hallways. However, we finally got down to where we had suspected the hostages had been kept - the theater.  
  
Low and behold, in the theater we found all of the Joker's henchmen tied up and hung from the stage lights. However, there was no Joker there, so we got the goons down and loaded them into police cars headed towards Gotham Prison - actually the other men on my team did that. I made another scan of the building to see if Batman was still in there and needed any help. I didn't find him, and as much as I tried to resist, my heart rate picked up when I discovered he was still out there somewhere.  
  
Well, I figured there was nothing I could have done to help him at that point, so I got in my car and began back towards my empty house. I was about a block away from home when I got a call from Headquarters that Joker had been returned to Arkham. Everything was back to normal..well, as normal as things get in Gotham City.  
  
I was exhausted when I got to my front door, and fumbled with my keys for a good minute before I finally put them in and got inside. I made it about three steps before I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck and I began to panic. I was sluggish, unarmed, and there was someone in my home. This night was turning out perfect.  
  
Just then I heard a groan from the corner of the living room. I searched for a weapon, but the best I could come up with before going toward the source of the voice was an umbrella. Cautiously, I made my way across the hallway, leaving small puddles of rainwater in the wake of each footstep. I was too afraid to turn on my lamp, so the only light was from the streetlamp across the road, pouring foggily through my living room window..my very open living room window. I had long since broken into a cold sweat, and I was starting to feel dizzy as I walked around the coffee table.  
  
That's when I heard a raspy voice grind out, "Jim," and I knew who was in my house - I glanced at the digital clock on the VCR - at 2 a.m.  
  
Without wasting another second, I moved over to my right, flipping on the lamp in the room, flooding my vision to the point of near-blindness for a moment. I took another look around the room, eventually glancing back towards my window, and it was then that I noticed the crimson dripping from the windowsill, staining my eggshell-colored carpet. The blood moved in a sloppy trail up to a corner on the other side of the room where there was a bookshelf, on which a very injured Dark Knight was now leaning. My breath caught and my heart skipped a beat, but I was by him in an instant, holding him up with an arm around his middle and fingers wrapped around the gloved hand now slung over my shoulder.  
  
"My God," I murmured, as I lowered him onto my couch, "what the hell happened?"  
  
Well, is this ok?? This chapter is way longer than the other two, I know. Let me know how you like it, and I'm totally open to suggestions!! 


	4. rust colored couch

Ok, I'm doing the fourth chapter!! This will be longer, more romantic, and hopefully a little improved detail-wise. Oh, and I noticed I didn't include a disclaimer in my other chapters wince.. well, if I owned Batman, I would be rich, and his character would be married to a comic version of myself. If you sue me, the most you'll get is some chipped nail polish from my toes or a sketch. I'd say it's not worth it..  
  
(Last time, in Musings of the Sleep Deprived)  
  
Without wasting another second, I moved over to my right, flipping on the lamp in the room, flooding my vision to the point of near-blindness for a moment. I took another look around the room, eventually glancing back towards my window, and it was then that I noticed the crimson dripping from the windowsill, staining my eggshell-colored carpet. The blood moved in a sloppy trail up to a corner on the other side of the room where there was a bookshelf, on which a very injured Dark Knight was now leaning. My breath caught and my heart skipped a beat, but I was by him in an instant, holding him up with an arm around his middle and fingers wrapped around the gloved hand now slung over my shoulder.  
  
"My God," I murmured, as I lowered him onto my couch, "what the hell happened?"  
  
(And now...)  
  
He just groaned again, and it was taking all of my will power to let go of his warm body so I could examine his injuries. The couch was already beginning to turn a rusty color as his blood continued pouring from his wounds.  
  
It took a minute, but I finally assessed all of his injuries: two gashes on his right shoulder, a burn going up his side, another deep cut across his chest, and a sprained knee. I had gotten the first aid kit from the bathroom, and was now kneeling next to him with the kit open on the coffee table just behind me. I couldn't resist the urge to take his Kevlar- clad hand in mine for a moment before realizing my sopping clothes were starting to get rather cold.  
  
I took off my soaked coat and rolled up my sleeves, trying to figure out the best way to position myself so I could get to all of his injuries and avoid arousing myself too much at the same time. Finally I gave up on it and resolved that I'd just move around to where I could get the best access for each cut or such.  
  
First I detached all of his torso body armor, his gloves, and his belt, and placed them on the floor next to the coffee table. Then I turned back to him and, forgive me, I nearly passed out. Not because of the huge amounts of blood, mind you, but because of the work of art it was coming out of. At this point I wasn't sure if I could fix him up without trying to hump his brains out.  
  
Tentatively, I ran my fingers across the cut on his chest. His once slow, and for the most part steady breath suddenly came out in a sharp hiss of pain, and my fingers drew back immediately. Then I grabbed a cotton swab and soaked it with some alcohol, carefully dabbing it to the wound. Batman tensed up momentarily, but quickly relaxed as I cleaned the area and then applied Neosporin and a gauze bandage to it. As I secured it with a couple of strips of medical tape, I wondered how many times he's had this done. Not that looking at the vast amount of scars scattered across him wasn't any indication, but it made me think (which wasn't a bad thing, since I would otherwise be painfully aroused.)  
  
Well, curiosity got the best of me..again. My, that seems to be a problem with me doesn't it? Anyway, I opened my big mouth and inquired as to who usually did this while I bandaged up his burned side. A quiet reply of the name "Alfred" was all I got, not that I expected more. I hoped to meet this "Alfred" one day, and at the thought I couldn't help but smile - meeting Alfred would probably mean getting through a few other steps towards each other..like another kiss. Yum. But back to the task at hand.  
  
As I hypothesized about what Alfred was like, I put an ace bandage around his knee over the costume, and then grabbed some gauze on a roll to do the twin gashes on his shoulder. I was having trouble getting to it though, so, bravely, I ventured to straddle his hips for better access to his cuts. It was much easier to get the gauze around, but I was feeling about ready to explode. Damn my body. Needed to get my mind back on the bandaging, fast. Sigh.  
  
I was almost done bandaging him up when his hand clamped down on my forearm.  
  
"Jim," he managed, "my head.."  
  
I nodded once and finished bandaging his shoulder (and did I mention he has a beautiful body? Pale and littered with scars, but beautiful) before looking up to see him weakly gesturing at some blood slowly dribbling down the side of his face. But I couldn't see the cut...so I reasoned it must be under the mask. Which required taking off the mask...which meant seeing his face. But it's not like I had the option of letting him do it himself in private - he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. And it was still bleeding enough that it would have been quite dangerous to just leave it alone.  
  
I gazed down at the white slits that concealed his eyes. He looked so vulnerable right then, and I really hated to take off his mask. It might have scared him. Hell, it might have scared me. It would definitely change everything. This wasn't the sort of thing I had wanted to think about on a night like this, or ever really. There was just too much left up to chance. I didn't want to, not that I hadn't wondered, but God I never though it would happen, and why then?? But I guess that's just my luck. I leaned in close, my face hovering inches from his.  
  
"You're sure?" I whispered, moving my shaking hand up to his cheek, absently wiping away some of the blood.  
  
"Sure. Trust you. Do it," he murmured, feebly squeezing my thigh (lucky for me, the closest thing to his limp hand) in reassurance.  
  
I couldn't stop myself then. I leaned down and kissed him, softly at first, but within seconds my lips were crushing his with bruising force and my eyes were squeezed shut as my trembling fingers peeled the mask back. His breath was coming quick and hot out of his nose, and I could feel the heaving of his chest beneath me - and it turned me on something fierce. Damn I was horrible. My head was spinning from the waves of desire crashing over me and my palms were sweaty - and I was supposed to be helping my injured friend. Fuck.  
  
Keeping my eyes closed tightly, I summoned every bit of will power I had and pulled back from my friend's soft, moist lips, gasping for air. I now sat clutching the removed mask in my hands as if my life depended on it. I took a deep breath and started to crack my eyes open, and as his face blurred into my vision, I was reminded that this moment would change our lives forever.  
  
Well, that's chapter four!! Yes, I am evil leaving you hanging. Maybe I'll have the phone ring or something right at the beginning of the next chapter just to piss you off, mwahahaha!! Please review! ^_^ 


	5. one day at a time

Last time is Musings of the Sleep Deprived:  
  
Keeping my eyes closed tightly, I summoned every bit of will power I had and pulled back from my friend's soft, moist lips, gasping for air. I now sat clutching the removed mask in my hands as if my life depended on it. I took a deep breath and started to crack my eyes open, and as his face blurred into my vision, I was reminded that this moment would change our lives forever.  
  
And now.....  
  
Dear God was he beautiful. I had never imagined he, or for that matter any other human being, could ever encompass such flawlessly chiseled and proportioned features. The man was perfect. His deep, piercing, crystalline blue eyes bore up at me begging for trust, acceptance, and......something else I couldn't quite place. Alas, my mind was wandering again – I had to get back to treating his injuries or it wouldn't matter how gorgeous he was – he'd be dead.  
  
I wiped the blood from the side of his face, up his square jaw line and across his high cheekbones, smearing it all over the back of my hand as I traced it back to the source. Upon reaching the bridge of his nose I saw the blood was coming from a rather large gash on his forehead. At this, I gently pushed back his dark sweat-slicked hair to get a better look at the damage.  
  
The cut was deep enough that he really needed stitches in order to ensure against infection and scarring, but it was too late, he had to be treated right away or he would pass out and possibly bleed to death. Not to mention, I didn't think it wise to bring him to a hospital like this. And so, I got another cotton ball soaked with alcohol and began cleaning the wound. He hissed at the contact and I unconsciously took his hand in my free one to comfort him.  
  
After cleaning and putting a couple of strips of butterfly tape over the cut, and then covering it with gobs of Neosporin and a large gauze pad, I assured Batman that he was all taken care of.  
  
"Thanks, Jim. I knew I......I could count on you......why I......came here," he forced out.  
  
"I'm glad you feel you can trust me, old friend. You need to get some rest, and um, you're welcome to stay the night if you.......Batman?"  
  
I turned to him and saw he had already fallen asleep. A strange sight if I may say so. I couldn't help but smile at the thought that he had trusted me enough to come to my house instead of going to that Alfred guy. Then again, I was probably just closer. Nonetheless, I was flattered.  
  
It was late, and I was still in my wet clothes, which were now also covered with blood. I carefully stood up from the couch and made my way to my bedroom. Upon stripping down and getting out my pajamas, I saw that much of the blood had soaked through my shirt, staining my chest and arms. I supposed at that point I might as well take a shower.  
  
I turned the water on hot and stepped in, the steam quickly filling the room and obscuring everything from view save for my shampoo bottle and the shower curtain. The water soothed knots in my shoulders and back I had picked up from the stress of the evening, and from leaning over Batman for the past half hour. As the water ran over my body, I got to thinking about how crazy the evening had been – which in turn got me thinking about my friend.  
  
My friend that was sleeping on my now-blood-stained couch in the next room. My friend, who had saved my life, and this city, and even the world several times over. That driven, beautiful, if a bit obsessive man that let me kiss him, that kissed me back, and was now injured, but deliciously shirtless and just a few steps away. And then it was too much - I couldn't stop myself – I tried to, really. But I groaned, low and deep in my chest, as an image of him sprawled naked across my bed flooded my mind.  
  
In mere seconds, I had been encompassed in a haze of insatiable lust, with no escape in sight. My better judgment had fled and my mind was reeling with unbidden images. My hand found its way to my already throbbing cock, clasping it tightly and stoking hard and fast. I wasn't in this for slow, burning pleasure – not unless it was real. This was just some temporary relief, though sweet it was. I found myself imagining him panting, calling my name, begging for more in that deep gravelly voice, gone raw with desire. Our bodies rubbing, hands caressing anything they can find, lips tasting whenever they weren't busy emitting moans and animalistic growls.  
  
My jaw had gone slack and my head was lolled back, my eyes rolling up as I gave into the sensations that my hands were causing, wishing that they were in fact his hands that were touching me so intimately. A vivid scene flashed into my mind of him standing behind me in the shower, soaking wet with water and sweat, stoking me, rocking into my back. My mind focused on the rippling of the strong, lean muscles of his legs that were supporting us, and the hard, strong muscles of his arms. I could almost make out what dream-Batman was murmuring to me as he flicked his tongue out and dragged it along my ear, nibbling the lobe. I cried out, in the dream and in reality, and my breath caught as his mouth moved down along my jaw, down my neck, and then hovered over the junction to my shoulder, before he clamped down on it with a feral growl.  
  
My fist was pumping furiously now and I was screaming, the sweat dripping from every pore lost in the gentle spray of water from the shower, my breath coming in short gasps between each scream of ecstasy. I could hardly stand, and I was leaning heavily against the wall of the shower stall. It was over within thirty seconds from that, the sensations becoming overwhelming and the heat becoming unbearable. I came with a shudder and allowed the water to wash the cum off of my hand and the shower stall.  
  
After drying off and putting of some loose cotton pajama pants and a wife beater I sat on my bed. I thought about everything Batman and I had been through together. All of the times he'd been there to catch me when I thought I couldn't stand anymore. What I had done that night wasn't nearly equal compensation for what he's done – but I turned off the light and headed back into the family room, opting to sleep in my reclining chair next to the couch, feeling content that I was on my way to making it up to him. One day at a time.  
  
So I just added a couple of little details here, but I'm still not sure if I want to continue this. It's been months and I only have half the reviews on this as I do some other things. Oh well...I really need to update my other stuff too, actually, but my writer's block threatens to liquefy my brain so it falls out my nose. Not good, you see. So yes. Suggestions = good. 


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